Sam Winchester and Reader Comfort Oneshot (Platonic)
by WaywardDaughter617
Summary: (Reader's point of view) Sam comforting you after a really bad day at school. #comfort #platonic #noshipping Rated T for some cursing.


_**Me: "I had time to kill and I was bored...so I wrote this for y'all."*glances at OC, Rani as she glares at me*  
"Don't look at me like that okay, Rani? It's true...okay. Maybe not. I MIGHT have done this as a pick-me-up for myself, and that's why it's sent in the second person point of view, but whatever. I might go back and edit it so that it's inn the first person. *looks at Rani* Happy now?"**_

 _ **Rani: "Yeah, okay."**_

 _ **Me: "Do you want to do the disclaimer?"**_

 _ **Rani: "Sure. WaywardDaughter617 does not own or claim to any characters other than myself, nor does she own rights to Supernatural by CW.**_

 _ **Me: Wel that's all! I hope you enjoy it!**_

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 ** _Imagine Sam comforting you after a bad day at school..._**

You walk barefoot to the door of Jody's guest bedroom in an old sweatshirt and jeans, your movements hesitant. School had been a wreck and Sam was the only one home. It was a bad habit you considered... Needing a freaking hug after a bad day.

'What am I even doing? I'm 16 years old. I probably should stop doing this' you mused. Ever since your parent's deaths, it seemed like you had two different personalities. A mature, independent facade, and a shy, childish personality that revealed itself in times like this.

But just being able to hold onto someone else helped. Especially when you'd had a day like today had been. People just couldn't leave the past alone it seemed. Dredging up memories of the incident that took your parents away.

You just needed a hug. As childish that sounds.

But Jody had gone with Dean to investigate for a nearby hunt, Claire and Alex were out on their own for dinner, needing to get away from all the business at the aptly named "Wayward base", and Sam was the only one home.

Your fingers rapped softly against the wood door, then wrapped back around your waist, hands tucked back into the worn sleeves, covering the rope-like scars that white and stark against your skin, the only physical reminder of the demon who had killed your parents in front of you, then choose to torture you for the fun of it. It was thanks to Jody that you were even alive.

"Come in," Sam's voice answered from inside the room. A single hand sneaked its way out of the sweatshirt to turn the doorknob.  
Your cautious feet stepped into the room, leading you to where Sam sat, back leaning against the headboard of his bed with a book in hand, in a flannel that was impossibly large even on his huge frame, socks and a pair of worn jeans.

Eyes dropping as you entered, your hands twisted, wringing together in a nervous tick as you glanced at the hunter's face. Sam's lips twitched in a smile as you entered before a small frown drew his brows together.  
"What's wrong?"  
Two pairs of eyes meet for a moment before your eyes glue their gaze back on the stained wood under your toes.  
"I don't know," you mumbled. Sam chuckled.  
"Of course you know. Let me rephrase the question. Are going to tell me what's up?", a twinkle of laughter snuck into his eye, " or do I need to tickle the answer out of you? It's worked before..." He bantered, smiling when your eyes darted up to meet his before his hazel gaze turned serious.  
"No? You're not going to tell me?"  
A minuscule shake of the head was your only response.  
"Alright. Come here. I've seen this routine before with Jody." Sam opened his arms with a slanted twitch of the lips, and a shimmer in his eye.  
Your cheeks tinted red with a blush as you realized that Sam had noticed your co-dependency centered habit. But you still crossed the oaken floor to the bed, moving to sit on the very edge of the blanket.  
Sam gave you the Look, so you scooted a bit closer to his side, feeling like a five-year-old running to their parent after a nightmare. Warm, calloused hands pulled you into a hug, gentle but strong and you hid a minuscule relieved smile. He fit your smaller frame comfortably against his so that your head was nestled against his shirt, pulling up the extra blanket and tucking it around your shoulders, snug but not constraining.  
His shoulder pillowed your head, his rough chin resting on the crown of your head, and his hand lay across your shoulders.

First the fist time in a week, you let your guard down, and just stopped trying to pretend that everything was okay. Tears pricked your eyes, and you fought them back, but you couldn't stop the gasping cry that escaped your mouth. Sam's arms tightened around your small shoulders, but instead of facing his eyes, you buried your nose into his shirt, trying to stifle the sobs by breathing in the scent embedded in his shirt, all musty gun cleaner, cheap laundromat detergent and the smell of the Impala's leather.  
Sam's hand wrapped around yours, a reassuring grip, tethering you, grounding you. His rich baritone rumbled under your ear.

"So, I don't really know what's been going on with you, and I'm guessing that you won't let me know what."

A little shake of your head was your answer for him.

"I get that. A lot of the time when I was a kid I wouldn't tell Dean what was going on at school either. I didn't want to burden or worry him. I'm guessing that's what you're doing too." You nodded against his chest.

"Since I don't know what's up with going on with you, I'll just tell you what I can. Okay?"  
Your small fist clutched his shirt tightly as you nodded once more.

"You don't have to prove your worth to those dicks who keep trying to push you to the ground. You're already a freaking warrior in your own right, a hunter in the making if you want that. Got it?"

His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his fingertips coming much too close to those horrible scars on your arms from the attack...close to the memories. Close to the source of your

torment at school. You jerked your arm away with a small flinch.

But instead, his hand simply moved to smooth down your messy hair instead.

"That's it then? Ah. Listen to me, alright? Listen to me okay These scars don't define you. No matter what any of those jerks say. Your past doesn't define you. It may have changed you, yeah. That's true. But it had ZERO impact on your value, on your worth. Because you're priceless. Not worthless. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. I need you to see that...okay?"

Tears had become inevitable, and you pulled your sleeve up to wipe them away so that they didn't soak his shirt all the way through.  
Sam's hand tenderly brushed your hair away from your face as his head dipped down to look you in the eye.  
"Look, I know you can't really see that now, but I hope you will someday. If I needed to do this every day of my life to convince you of that I'd do it. I just hope you see that. Okay?"  
"Okay."

**********  
That's how Jody and Dean found you, your small frame curled into Sam's side, and his arms wrapped protectively around you.

 _Safe and sound_.


End file.
